Laughing Ever Since

Hum, hiss and click of the older but still usefull VL-3. Yep, i'm at work; all the way in the back. It's "Rich's" area, but today we are sharing (not that he had a say in it). So i 'm sitting at the bench (table, desk, ?) built for two and the right half, at least for now, belongs to me.

A long time ago...welll, in the grand scheme of things, not that long ago (seventh grade), i made a decision to not take life so seriously. It happened in an instant and i didn't realize the full implications of the decision until years later, and partially just now.

f l a s h b a c k (warpy fade effect combined with the sound of a harp)

Science class would begin in a few minutes. I sat on the left side of the room, third desk from the front. Why Steve was making fun of me or what he was saying, i don't remember. But i can still see his face. He was turned around (facing me) from the next desk up (towards the front). His taunts, in addition to the laughter from kids in the surrounding desks (and perhaps an already unpleasant string of preceeding events) were too much. I could feel the tears forming. They wanted out. They wanted emotional release. My feelings were hurt and they wanted to prove it.

But in that instant; right there, right then, something in me changed. A switch was thrown. A button was pushed. A valve was opened. Whatever it was, it was quick and it was good. The tears retreated, my mouth opened wide, and what came out?

"You ____ing son of a ____! You think you're so "cool" and "macho", but let me tell you something you ____! You can't _____ say _____ and _______ and on top of that, your mom _____ and you were ______ on a Thursday morning! So ______!" (Fill the blanks in with whatever you find appropriate).

No, what came out of my mouth was laughter.

Laughter?

Yep.

I wasn't laughing simply to avoid crying in front of them, it was genuine. It was real. I was actually laughing. Probably out of confusion or not knowing what else to do, Steve said, "He's laughing!" then turned back around and left me alone. Why the heck was i laughing?

I really don't know, but i've been laughing ever since.

Perhaps i realized that it doesn't really matter what anyone says about me. Who are they to judge? Ani DiFranco sang, "They're like fish in water that don't know they are wet. As far as i can tell, the world isn't perfect yet." They can say all they want about anyone, but at the end of the day they're surrounded by just as much of the same water. Think about that next time you want to call someone "stupid" for something. Haven't you done stupid things before? I have.

Maybe laughter became an escape. It doesn't hurt or pull on your insides the way crying does. But i don't think that's the case. When i laugh, it's not me avoiding negativity. I actually do find humor in the situation. There's something about awkward silences, for instance, that brings comedy. So i laugh.

Sometimes i feel that people grow uncomfortable around me; they think i'm laughing at them. But i'm not. I don't laugh at people. I know what it feels like. I just laugh at the situation or sometimes for no particular reason at all. So if you're ever with me and you catch me laughing, remember; it's not at you. Feel free to ask me what it is at. I'm sure i'll have at least a half understandable explanation.

My dad thought i was laughing at him today. He needed an insert for a tool, and wanted a box of them to be on the nearby desk (which is, presently, the cleanest and most organized desk in the whole shop). But there wasn't one. So, angrily, he said, "Ya know...when i haven't worked on a machine for a while, things get lost and disorganized. I like the tools to be right here so i can just reach for one and get it. I always organize it that way." So i laughed. Not at him, but at what was behind what he said.

My dad thinks everyone wines and complains in the shop. Let's define "wining" or "complaining" as the verbal expression of particular dislike or dissatisfaction over a specific situation, event, or otherwise. Isn't that what he was just doing? He's also under the impression that the shop, and perhaps the rest of the world, should run the way he sees fit. If it's not Tim's way (that's his name), then it's incorrect, inefficient, or disorganized.

So i laughed.

The world does not run under Tim's rules, and there are several billion other people who have their own way of doing things that, to them, is just fine. Steve, for instance, is the one who organized the desk. He did a very good job. He did it the way Steve would want it. And why wouldn't he? We don't all walk around with a checklist titled "Tim's Way". We have our own checklist and our own methods. To each his own. And my dad complains just as much, but doesn't realize it. His just sound different.

And what was his reaction?

"Why don't you go sweep the floor!"

He was serious, mind you. This wasn't a quick anger-driven flash of idle retaliation, this was a real command. He actually wanted me to go sweep the floor. Sure it needed sweeping, but that wasn't his motivation.

So i laughed again, this time at the quality of the response. Sorry, dad, but it was kind of immature. I love you, you know that. But goodness.

I was actually proud of the way i responded. "You want me to sweep the floor 'cause you're getting pissy at my laughing?" I stood up for myself, quickly and without restraint. (Applause). That's a big step for me. Usually i'll get upset, internalize what i'm feeling and let it dissipate throughout the day rather than confronting the source. But this time i sealed the internal storage tanks and bounced it right back out.

"It's dirty, and it's better than you sitting around doing nothing," he said. I had to wait for the insert before i could do any further work on the machine. It's not like i was being lazy on purpose.

But, i couldn't argue with the "dirty" part, so i swept. I pushed that broom all over the surrounding floor and even moved things to get in, underneath, and around. I looked at it when i was done, very happy with the cleaner, dust-free look.

And i laughed the whole time. I was sweeping out of spite. Not my spite, but his. There's humor all over that. Again, i wasn't laughing at him, just at the general situation.

Normally i'd get all mad about it.

But not today.



(i love you, dad)